


I Am Where I Think Not

by K_dAzrael



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Non-Sexual Kink, adult baby Ren, with apologies to both Jacques Lacan and Jesus, ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8211526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_dAzrael/pseuds/K_dAzrael
Summary: “Fuck off, Ren. I’m not going to accept psychoanalysis from a grown man in a diaper.”





	

The door to Kylo Ren’s rooms opened with a soft hiss, allowing Hux to enter the black and chrome atrium with its hidden shrine to Darth Vader – now thankfully recessed. He made his way through to the bedroom. The lights were turned down very low and a small electric novelty lamp was plugged into the back wall, casting a warm yellow light on the ceiling that showed a shifting pattern of stars and moons. From somewhere towards the back of the room there came a regular _tick_ , _tick_ , too slow to be a clock.

Kylo was lying on his back on the floor. Beneath him was spread a bantha-milk blue blanket of some soft, fuzzy material. He was naked except for a pair of high-waisted briefs that puffed out over the diaper cloth underneath. The yellow outer layer was decorated with a cheerful pattern of ducks and pelikki.

Hux turned away for a moment to remove his gloves, belt and outer tunic, placing these on a chair. He unzipped his boots and stepped out of them. Walking silently to Kylo in his socked feet, he knelt down on the blanket at his side. He smiled warmly, reaching out to stroke Kylo’s cheek softly with the side of one finger. “Hello my darling boy.” His finger trailed downwards, pausing to brush the underside of Kylo’s chin. “Hello my sweet baby.”

Kylo’s thumb popped out of his mouth and his arm flopped sideways onto the blanket.  He gazed up at Hux with his dark, curious eyes and smiled. Hux leaned down and rubbed the tip of his nose against Kylo’s. “Have you been a good boy today? Have you? Did you miss me? I missed you.” He planted three noisy kisses on Kylo’s cheek in quick succession. then tickled his ribs until Kylo rocked back and forth and laughed.

Kylo’s hair was damp at the edges — he always showered before these encounters and put the diaper on himself before Hux’s arrival. Perhaps he still didn’t trust Hux to keep things non-sexual when he was naked (Hux was offended by this thought: baby Kylo and adult Ren are two distinct beings in his mind); or perhaps his fully-developed genitals were distressing or dysmorphic to his baby self. Hux smiled at him and took his face between thumb and forefinger, gently squeezing his cheeks. “Sweet baby. Are you tired? Let’s get you all ready for bed, hmm?”

Hux stood up and went over to a cabinet in the corner, hitting the button to make the doors slide open. He pulled out drawer and selected a bottle of lotion from the neat rows of bottles lined up within. _Baby’s Bedtime Balm — now scented with starflower and annisa!_ He returned to Kylo’s side, kneeling down and rubbing a dollop of the lotion between his hands to warm it. He started with Kylo’s chest, spreading his hands out in wide circles.

“That feels good, doesn’t it baby? We want to keep your skin nice and soft. Look at this perfect little tummy,” he slipped his fingertip into Kylo’s navel, grinning as he watched him smile and squirm. Hux squeezed out more lotion and started on Kylo’s arms. When every inch of each limb had been covered he took Kylo’s hands and brought them together, leaning down to kiss the scarred knuckles. He held Kylo’s wrists and brought the palms together in a clapping motion. “Clap hands,” he said in a high sing-song voice. He repeated the action and the phrase with the same intonation each time, as if he was modelling it for Kylo to copy. Kylo gave him the soft, wondering look again, his mouth curled up at one corner in a dopey smile.

Hux rubbed the lotion down Kylo’s legs. “There’s my big strong boy, aren’t you?” he praised. He let Kylo kick his feet a little bit against his thighs and stomach — trusting Kylo to do it gently and not with his adult strength. He pinched Kylo’s toes and lightly tickled the soles of his feet.

“Alright sweetheart, let’s get you on your tummy,” he said, moving to Kylo’s side again.  Hux was not strong enough to turn Kylo as a parent would a real infant, but he pulled on Kylo’s shoulder until he rolled over for Hux, bridging that gap between fantasy and reality. Hux smoothed another dollop of lotion over the broad expanse of his back and walked his fingertips up and down the length of Kylo’s spine. “Pretty baby,” he cooed again. “The most beautiful boy in all the galaxy, that’s what you are.” He carded his fingers through Kylo’s hair. “Let’s brush your hair, hmm? Make it all silky and soft.”

He returned the lotion to the cabinet and came back with a pale blue, soft-bristled brush that had a picture of a three-eared tumble bunny printed on the back. Kylo’s hair was thick, so he had to divide it into small sections. Kylo’s eyelashes were dark smudges against the skin of his cheeks, his thumb back in his mouth and his face slack with bliss. Hux hummed softly as he worked, tisking and muttering whenever he came upon a snarl. The sound of ticking and the regular hiss of the brush were lulling Hux too; the sounds and sensation of Kylo’s warm, sweet-smelling body so close made it feel like warm rain was trickling over his skull and down the back of his neck.

“Kylo,” he said, drawing out the syllables, “you’re not asleep, are you precious? We need to get you into your sleep suit. Yes we do. Don’t want my little baby to be cold.” He pulled Kylo’s hip and got him to roll over onto his back again, making a drawn-out sound of protest, the shuddering of his chest a prelude to a fit of sobbing. “Shhh,” Hux said, rubbing Kylo’s chest in a soothing, circular motion. “I know sweetheart — I know you’re sleepy. Soon you’ll be tucked up in bed all snug and cosy.”

He got up and replaced the brush in its drawer, then opened the other side of the tall storage cabinet and looked at the clothes hanging there. He pulled out a pale green onesie printed with stylized images of starfighters. “Look at this one, Kylo,” he said. “Isn’t it pretty?” He held it against himself and stroked the fabric, his fingers making a faint catching sound over the pile of the brushed chaughaine.

Kylo blinked at him slowly, his eyes black in the low light and glittering with the revolving of the stars and moons across the ceiling. Hux wondered how deep it went: could Kylo hear and understand him, where he was, or had he unmoored himself from adulthood so completely that he saw only light and colour, heard only the burbling of a familiar and beloved voice?

“No,” Hux said to himself, replacing the suit back in the closet. “Not that one. Something warmer for my baby.” He thumbed through the clothes hanging on the rack until he found the one he had in mind: a footie sleepsuit made from a thick, quilted material in blue and grey stripes. He removed it from the hanger and knelt down, unbuttoning the suit and scrunching up the legs until he could get one of Kylo’s wriggling feet in, then the other; then pulled the fabric up Kylo’s legs. Kylo subtly helped him with the arms and Hux worked the plastic fasteners up the middle, doing them up slowly so he could hear each muted snap.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he said. Kylo rolled over and crawled to the base of the bed, dropping the role for a moment as he climbed onto the mattress. The bed was recessed, surrounded by small storage units and so it did have a slightly crib-like feel. Hux picked up the blanket and folded it over his arm. It would be too hot for Kylo to sleep under in the insulated suit,so he slid the blanket along his side; Kylo caught up the corner with his left hand and popped his thumb back into his mouth, rubbing the scratchy edge of the blanket against his cheek. Hux perched on the edge of the mattress and bent to open the built-in storage module beneath. From this he drew out a succession of toys,  showing the qualities of each until Kylo’s eyes brightened at one, a plush wok-wok with a rattle in its tail, and he made a high, urgent noise signalling that he wanted it. He tucked it next to Kylo and patted it with satisfaction.

“Happy baby,”  he cooed softly, tickling Kylo’s chin. “Do you want a story, hm?” He closed the unit full of toys and settled himself more snugly against Kylo’s side. Lifting the datapad off the bedside table, he flicked through the options until he found the text we was looking for.  Hux laid his arm across the pillow and leaned down to kiss the top of Kylo’s head. He thought briefly about how nice it would be to sleep here, curled up against Kylo’s side while he was quiet and pliant, like this, but that was against their agreement — Ren wanted these encounters to be sharply delineated so there were as few awkward moments of blurring between the roleplay and reality as possible.

Hux inhaled against the top of his head, smelled the baby shampoo Kylo had washed it in before his arrival. He kissed the parting and breathed out slowly, then tapped the datapad  to bring up the story, letting his voice fall to a hushed, soothing rhythm. Kylo looked up at him, dark eyes expressing a calm sort of wonder. Hux felt a surge of something warm — a sense of accomplishment, perhaps — that he could do all this for Kylo, make him feel cherished and protected in exactly the way he craved.

*~*~*

“Fuck!” Ren’s voice was almost a yelp as his knees trembled against the back of Hux’s thighs. His body became a dead weight and he sagged against Hux’s sweaty back. Hux grunted with displeasure as he felt Ren pulling out — rough and careless like he did everything; the sensation jangling his over-sensitized nerves.

“Here,” Ren grunted, flopping onto his side on Hux’s rumpled bed, tugging Hux’s hip until he rolled back and Ren could get an arm around him and jerk him (roughly) in his big, calloused hand. Hux was too far gone to criticize the lack of finesse; he leaned back against the solid bulk of Ren’s body and gasped, hips working in shallow jerks as he came, feeling the semen hit his own stomach and chest and trickle down warmly. He gave himself three deep, heaving breaths — three seconds, more or less, of lying slumped in Ren’s arms, before peeling their sweat-tacky bodies painfully apart and heaving himself off the bed to pad into the ‘fresher.

“Don’t even think about wiping your cock on my sheets, Ren,” he called back over his shoulder. He wet a cloth in the sink and tossed it out through the open doorway in the direction of the bed. Some minutes later he emerged from his brisk sonic to find the cloth folded on his bedside table (an improvement over last time, he noted, when Ren — the filthy animal — had tossed it on the floor). He had expected Ren to be gone, or at least well on his way to fully dressed, but the other man’s clothes were still strewn over the floor leading from the bedroom out into the living area. Hux toed an oversize boot aside and moved towards the bed, spying a dark head among the rumpled bedclothes.

“What are you playing at, Ren? I have to be on shift in five hours — there’s no sense in you hanging around here waiting for a round two.”

No response came from the bed. Hux stalked closer and saw that Ren was lying on his front, head turned to one side. His back rose and fell with deep, slow breaths and his one visible eye was closed. His thumb was in his mouth, index finger curled around the tip of his nose, and he made a soft, regular sound — so quiet as to be almost inaudible — as his lips closed around the digit and released.

Hux straightened up so fast he hit his head on the top of the berth. Spots danced before his eyes and he was struck with the sudden, hysterical urge to take off running through the corridors of the ship shouting out “ _KYLO REN SUCKS HIS THUMB! KYLO REN SUCKS HIS THUMB!_ ”

Instead, Hux took a step back, fastening the towel more securely around his waist. “Ren,” he said, in as even a voice as he could manage. Then, louder: “REN.”

Ren stirred, turning his face into the pillow.

“Ren, get up!”

Ren made a sleepy, confused noise and rolled onto his back. He blinked a few times and then pulled his thumb from his mouth with a sharp pop. When he caught Hux staring at him in disbelief he sat up, gathering the covers over his lap in a sudden, uncharacteristic attack of modesty. He turned his face downwards and away, bottom lip settling into a pettish expression.

Hux grinned in triumph when he saw how shifty the other man looked. “Why Ren, what a nasty habit. Have you always sucked your thumb like that? No wonder your teeth are crooked.”

Ren’s face took on the narrow, devious look he always adopted when he thought he was about to say something clever or cutting. “Have _you_ always liked taking three fingers in your ass?”

Hux laughed. “No, that was rather an acquired taste. So, does Leader Snoke know about your oral fixation?”

“The Supreme Leader doesn’t care about my personal habits,” Ren spat. “This weak human body is only a vessel for the Force.”

“Well, someone’s tetchy.” Hux pursed his lips together, making a tutting sound. “Did little baby Kylo miss his nap time today?”

Ren rose from the bed and loomed over Hux, fists clenched at his sides; Hux stood his ground, quirking one eyebrow to demonstrate how unimpressed he was with this posturing. “Shut your mouth, Hux. If you want to continue with this,” Ren swiped an index finger through the air between them, “then don’t you dare say another word about it.”

Hux held up his hands in a surrender gesture. “Oh simmer down will you? It’s just a little fun. It’s not as if anyone would actually _believe_ me if I told them.”

Ren made a huffing sound and went off to start gathering his shed clothing. Hux rolled his eyes and went to the bed to begin remaking it according to academy standards.

“So,” he called back over his shoulder as he folded the corner of the bottom sheet crisply, “will I see you when you get back from Mustafar?”

“Maybe,” said Ren, screwing his feet back into his boots.

“ _Maybe_?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh really Ren. I do tire of your unnecessary flair for the dramatic.” He heard the hiss of Ren’s mask fastening back into place. “We both find this a satisfying outlet for our tensions. It’s absurd to drag resentment or pride into the mix.”

“I have far more effective ways of managing my tensions,” Ren said, voice artificially flattened by the vocoder. “You know nothing of the demands of my training — they are beyond your narrow understanding. This,” he gestured expansively with one gloved hand, “is just a frivolous diversion, after all. Perhaps I have outgrown my use for it.”

“Yes, yes, Ren. You are a fearsome Dark Sider with no need for mere frivolities such as blowjobs.”

“Goodbye, General,” he said, apparently an attempt to take the high road in this absurd dispute of his own making.

“See you when you get back,” Hux replied pleasantly.

“I said _maybe_ ,” Ren snapped, half-way out the door.

“Child!” Hux called after him.

*~*~*

“Ren,” Hux barked through the intercom, “Enough of this foolishness. Open the door.” He stood, looking left and right down the corridor and tapping his foot. He punched in the override code and straightened his tunic, striding purposely through the door as if on official business. When it closed behind him he found himself in a dark room lit only at odd angles from wall sconces. A chair sat facing a pedestal, whatever it held hidden from view by a metal cover.  

Hux hit some buttons on a nearby console, succeeding only in making the lights brighten or flicker off. A few more random buttons and he heard a panel unlock somewhere with a metallic clunk. Finally, he found the button that made the cover of the mysterious centrepiece divide up into segments, retracting back into the pedestal with a hiss of compressed air. It revealed a deep-set niche where there rested a twisted, half-melted thing cast in what looked like a mix of durasteel and plasteel. Its right eyehole gaped and part of the bottom of the grille had curled back with stumpy protrusions that looked not unlike teeth, giving the whole thing the look of a deformed skull, such as might be seen languishing in a collection of medical curiosities. Yet the artifact was not so disfigured as to be beyond recognition — it was a mask; that which had once belonged to the Emperor’s pet Sith, Darth Vader. Hux reached out — not impressed, exactly, but possessed of a morbid curiosity.

“Stop,” came Ren’s voice. “Don’t touch that.”

There was a bratty, rebellious part of Hux that wanted nothing more than to give the sacred relic a good hard poke, but he refrained, clasping his hands together behind his back as he pivoted to face Ren.

“Is this what you do in here that’s so secret — weep for the fall of the Sith?”

“You know nothing of the Dark Side.” Ren retorted, though he sounded somewhat less pompous than usual. He was wearing tracksuit bottoms that looked as if they had been scrambled into hastily; a pale strip could be seen above the waistband. It was decorated with some colourful, repeating pattern but Hux couldn’t quite make out what it was. Ren was looking longingly at the control panel behind Hux, but he seemed reluctant to move from his position in the doorway. He was guarding the entrance to the room beyond, Hux realised, his curiosity piquing.

“Which button is it?” Hux asked, casually palming the console and sending the array of lights into a series of wild flickers.

“Stop that!” Ren snapped, closing the space between them in a few large strides and elbowing Hux out of the way. Hux took the opportunity to dart for the door. “HUX!”

Hux found his progress arrested by an invisible pressure that grabbed him around his middle like a lasso, but it was enough: he could see into the room beyond — Ren’s bedroom. A large fluffy-textured rug was spread out on the floor and there were toys scattered across it; toys such as might be given to an infant: cuddly animals; a ball; a collection of brightly coloured rubber rings. Music played faintly somewhere: a tinkly sound like some kind of primitive wind-up instrument.

“What the hell?” Hux gasped out, despite the pressure around his waist. “Ren, do you have a baby?”

“No, of course not.” Ren stalked over to the door and slammed the button to close it.

Hux goggled at him, trying to unravel the mystery. The room had appeared empty — surely having a child was something Ren would be unable to hide from the general administration. His missions took him away for weeks at a time, after all.

“Then what…” Hux looked down and his eyes widened. Ren was closer now and he could see the tape marks on the white band showing above his pants — the pattern of baby ducks. “Are you wearing a diaper?”

“No,” Ren insisted, tugging his waistband higher.

“You are.”

“Don’t be stupid. Why would I do that?”

“Why indeed? I can only assume it’s some kind of continence issue you’re too proud or embarrassed to have treated—”

“I’m not incontinent!”

“—because otherwise… _otherwise_ I can only guess that you spend your free time holed up in here pretending that you’re a baby.” Hux looked up into Ren’s ashen face, arching his eyebrows. “And that, Ren, sounds utterly deranged.”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

“It is if I think you need a psych eval. That’s within my remit as commander, you know. I can send them a memo right now: ‘Kylo Ren is suffering from the persistent delusion that he is a baby. Recommend that he presents himself for immediate treatment.’”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Ren clenched his fists by his side. “ I can _end_ you Hux, right here and now.”

Hux laughed, his voice slightly delirious due to the choking pressure now working itself up his chest and neck. “Good luck explaining that one to the Supreme Leader.” Ren let him go so abruptly that he staggered back and hit the wall.

“Don’t,” Ren said, his voice somewhere between forbidding and pleading. “Alright,” he said, passing a hand over his face. “Tell me what you want, you smug bastard.”

“Just the truth. Tell me what the hell is going on in there. I mean, is it a sex thing — is that how you get yourself off?”

“No!” Ren looked utterly appalled by this suggestion. “It’s not sexual.”

“Oh come on. Things this weird are always sexual. So what — you roll around on the floor and soil yourself and that gets you hard?”

“No! Fuck, don’t be disgusting. It’s not like that.”

“What is it like? Tell me.”

“Not in here,” Ren said, flushing all the way up his neck.

Hux grinned. “Oh, not in front of the holy relic — I see.”

Ren hung his head, loose hair falling into his eyes. “Give me a minute to get changed. Then I’ll tell you.”

*~*~*

When Hux was admitted to the bedroom the toys were all squared away and Ren was dressed more soberly, having added a long sleeve shirt and, presumably, divested himself of the non-standard underwear. Hux seated himself on the bed and looked around at the sparse furnishings. Ren’s few comforts were a dirty secret, it seemed.

Ren folded his arms over his chest, sitting down on the edge of a chair. “What do you want to know?”

“Oh, _everything._ Start from the beginning.”

Ren gave a shrug that was more a sort of defensive twitch. “I don’t know when it began. It’s something I’ve always liked to think about.”

“Being a baby?”

Ren rubbed a hand over his mouth, ducked his head again. He looked utterly miserable.

“Why?” Hux prompted. “What do you like about it?”

“Babies don’t have any responsibilities. They can just _be_. And they’re…” Ren trailed off again, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he turned his face aside.

“What?”

Ren huffed out a reluctant breath. “Cared for.”

“Who cares for you — when you’re… doing your thing?”

“No-one. I just like to imagine it.”

“Who do you imagine? Do you have a… daddy? A mother?”

“No, it’s not a parent. I didn’t… I don’t like to think about that. Just a… guardian. Someone who cares for me.”

“What do they do for you?”

“Brush my hair. Feed me, dress me. Talk to me. Tell me I’m…”

“Tell you you’re a beautiful baby? That you’re safe... beloved?”

Ren scowled, tucking his hair behind his ear. “I know it’s stupid, okay? It’s just a fantasy.”

“What do you get out of it?”

“It’s relaxing.”

“That’s all?”

“It’s more than… they call it ‘headspace.’”

“Who does?”

“The other people who do this.”

“You’ve met them?”

“No. I’ve read about it on the HoloNet. I used to think I was the only one, but I’m not.” Ren licked his lips, his voice becoming low and fervent the same way it did when he babbled on about the Force. “Headspace is like… you go somewhere else. Somewhere inside of you that’s remote and it’s totally immersive. It’s more than relaxation — it’s like you’re floating, like nothing can touch you.”

“You make it sound like being hopped up on spice.”

Ren shrugged with one shoulder. “It’s more like meditation — though that never worked for me the way it’s supposed to.”

“Oh there’s a surprise.”

Ren glared at him resentfully. “Are you happy now? Satisfied?”

“I suppose so. Except tell me about the diapers.”

“What about them?”

“Where did you get them?”

“A store that caters to… people like me. There are directories—”

“On the HoloNet, yes. I’m sure it’s a treasure trove. And do you _use_ them?”

Ren folded one hand over the other, his face taking on a prim expression. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“In other words, _yes_.”

“I... sometimes I urinate. I don’t do the other thing — that’s…” he makes a face, “extreme.”

“One has to draw a line, I suppose.” Hux tried to imagine it — being so abandoned to a fantasy that he could let go of control in such a profound way. “How does it feel?” he asked.

“Wearing a diaper?”

“Pissing yourself.” Ren looked shocked at Hux’s words — taken aback, almost. He didn't answer. “Warm, I suppose,” Hux ventures. “ _Taboo_.”

“Why don’t you try it for yourself?” Ren retorted. “Since you’re so curious about all this.”

Hux chuckled. “No thanks. Crying and wetting myself doesn’t appeal to me. You doing it though — that’s another matter.”

“Because you think it’s hilarious?”

“No — well _yes_ , in some ways. I mean it’s quite a contrast with your public persona, though I suppose that’s entirely the point. I’d love to see you like that.” Hux leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Would you ever consider letting me?”

Ren was horrified. “It’s private — it’s not a freakshow for other people to laugh and gawk at.”

“I wouldn’t laugh. I think it’s fascinating.”

“I couldn’t do it if there was someone watching me. I’d be self-conscious.”

“What if they were participating?”

“You don’t want to be a baby. You just said so.”  

“No, but you want a carer, don’t you?”

Now it was Ren’s turn to laugh.

“What?”

“Hux... when has anyone, in your entire life, ever described you as ‘caring’?”

“Fair enough. But it’s a roleplay, isn’t it? You’re not really a baby, so what does it matter if I’m not really the nurturing type?”

“Because you’d be terrible at it.”

“I would not! I spent half my life pretending to be harmless, I’ll have you know.”

“I’ll pass.” Ren folded his arms over his chest and gave Hux a supercilious look. “Now if you’re finished butting in, I’d like to get some sleep.”

“Oh yes,” said Hux, in a low, falsely sweet voice, “wouldn’t want baby to be fussy.”

“Fuck off,” said Ren, every inch the malevolent adult. Hux burned with curiosity trying to imagine the soft, playful infant he apparently moonlighted as.

“Well,” said Hux, rising to his feet and pulling his gloves from his belt to tug them back on. “Since you don’t want to expand our repertoire — how about my rooms tomorrow after third shift, for the usual entertainment?”

“Maybe,” Ren persisted.

Hux stepped forward and tapped the other man’s full bottom lip. “Sulky baby.”

*~*~*

Hux hissed, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Ren’s neck and tugging gently. He was leaning up on one elbow, gaze transfixed by Ren’s wet, swollen mouth as he bobbed up and down on Hux’s cock.

“Ah, fuck,” Hux gasped out. “ _Fuck_. Look at you — you love that, don’t you?”

Ren made a low, helpless sound, the vibration deep in his throat sending Hux spiralling towards orgasm.

“I’m going to come. Don’t you dare stop — ah!”

Hux slumped back onto the bed, his arm over his eyes. He felt the mattress shifting as Ren climbed over him and headed to the refresher.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ren announced when he returned, sitting down on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots.

“First time for everything,” Hux replied, his voice too muzzy to really pull off the quip.

“Are you still interested in the baby thing — the roleplay?”

Hux pulled his arm away from his face and blinked up at Ren. “Yes. Why, have you reconsidered my fitness as a carer?”

“I thought we could try it out a little. You’d have to agree to my terms, though.”

“Go on.”

“You have to come in at the exact time I tell you to. Only do and say the things I tell you I want in advance. If I cry you have to leave. Immediately, no questions asked.”

“If you cry — is that your equivalent of a safeword?”

Ren nodded, glancing away. “I don’t talk when I’m… when I’m like that. I can’t coach you.”

“Of course — you’re in character.”

“I thought... no more than ten minutes, the first time. You can come in when I’m dressed. You can brush my hair.”

“That’s it?”

“We can talk about extending it if it goes well. If you laugh at me or act like an asshole that’s the end of it.”

“Ah. It’s an audition?”

“An experiment, maybe.” Ren stood up and buckled on his belt. “I’ll send you the instructions over comm.” Gravely, he added: “Do not disappoint me.”

*~*~*

Hux felt a knot of fluttering excitement and nervousness in the pit of his stomach when he approached Ren’s rooms. The instructions were simple enough, if a little controlling and severe — that in itself was a revelation: that Ren could plan, that his mind could be neat and orderly.

Hux entered the code to the outer door and walked through to the bedroom. He checked his chrono and took a deep breath before pressing the button to open the doors. The room was dimly lit, the lights set to a warm yellow, and the air temperature turned up high. Ren — _Kylo_ , as he must call him in this guise — was lying on the blanket. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a diaper; nothing else. His long muscular legs were lightly coated in dark hair, the pale, freckled skin marred with long burn scars. Hux baulked for a moment, hesitating in the doorway. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to go through with it. It was too jarring: the contrast between Ren, as he was — huge, muscular, inescapably adult — and as he fantasised himself to be — a pink, chubby-limbed infant. Hux wanted to laugh — not in amusement, but in discomfort; perhaps even a little bit of fear. After all, there was something macabre about a man as violent and powerful as Ren pretending to be a needy little baby.

Hux had thought, arrogantly, that participating in this would give him some hold over Ren that remained elusive despite their sexual intimacy. Ren wasn’t ashamed of anything they did in bed after all; but he was ashamed of this. Hux had thought he would be able to keep aloof; act out Ren’s pathetic farce and hold himself separate from it, watching in lordly amusement as Ren infantilized himself. But looking down at him lying there, secure in this world of his own making, Hux suddenly felt as if _he_ were the one who was out of place and absurd.   

Hux swallowed and walked forward, removing his boots as he had been instructed, shrugging off his greatcoat, removing his hat and gloves and placing them in a neat pile on the chair in the corner. He approached Kylo slowly, letting his gaze travel up the other man’s body. Ren had this thumb in his mouth, and his eyes… his eyes were different: wide, curious, a little fearful, with none of his adult self’s anger or scorn. Hux knelt down — slowly, not wanting to startle him. He breathed out and wet his lips to speak. “Kylo,” he said, his voice very quiet and wavering. “Oh, what a beautiful baby you are.”

*~*~*  

“I want to stay longer,” Hux said as Ren slumped next to him, still trying to regain his breath, the generous curves of his pectorals coated with sweat and spunk.

“This is your bedroom,” Ren pointed out, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Not here, you clod. The other thing.” He winced as he saw Ren cleaning himself off with his discarded undershirt. It was destined for the wash anyway, but it was the principle of the thing, the implied disrespect for his belongings. Hux decided to rise above it this one time — there were more urgent matters to discuss.

“The baby play?”

“Well, obviously.” They always had these negotiations after sex, though why remained a mystery — a time of heightened honesty and openness, perhaps (what little of those qualities either of them had to spare); or perhaps it was so they could keep the roleplay free from the undercurrents of their mutual sexual attraction.

Ren grunted and tossed the sullied shirt onto the floor. “You’re not enjoying it anymore?”

“Of course I am. Aren’t you? I fancied I was getting rather good at it.”

“Yeah,” said Ren, his voice oddly flat.

“If you have complaints then let’s hear them. I thought you said you liked the cloth diapers — they are much softer, aren’t they? Is it the new sleep suits? They were advertised as hypoallergenic but—”

“No, I mean all the stuff you bought is fine.”

“But?”

“Sometimes it just feels like it’s too much, too fast. Like it’s not just my thing anymore.”

“I always consult you, don’t I? I’ve never made you do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

Ren shrugged, his sweaty shoulder bumping Hux’s own. “I just don’t see what you’re getting out of it.”

“And that makes you suspicious?”

“It makes me confused.”

Hux rolled onto his side. “You’re my lover, Ren. It’s a point of pride with me to make sure my partners are satisfied in every aspect of the relationship.”

“Shit, Hux, you make it sound like you’re providing customer service.”

“Well of course I don’t mean it like that! Let’s put it another way — I like that you’ve shown me this side of yourself. I like that I’m able to do something for you that no-one else has.”

“Ok,” Ren stared up at the ceiling. “So what do you want to negotiate?”

“I’d like to do more for you. I’d bathe you, for a start, wash your hair — do you have bath toys? I can get you some. I’d dry you off and diaper you — with the creams and the powder. You have those already, don’t you?”

“No — I mean yes, I have those. But I don’t want you to do any of that.”

“Why not?”

Ren shrugged again. He turned his head and gazed at Hux with a curious intensity, as if there were something he wanted Hux to understand without him having to say it verbally.

“Ren, I have seen you naked a hundred times. I’m not going to lose my head and make things weird or sexual.”

“That’s not… I’m not worried about that.”

“What then?”

“I think it might be more intense.”

“I’m not going to be embarrassed if you cry, Ren.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ren gave a sigh, as if he thought Hux was being deliberately obtuse.

“It just feels absurd that I have to come in halfway through,” Hux persisted. “You want to be cared for properly, don’t you? What sort of guardian would let a baby bath itself?”

Ren folded his arms over his broad chest and breathed out slowly through his nose. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so cautious in this when you fling yourself with such reckless abandon into everything else you do in life.”

“Because it’s different.”

Hux shifted closer, pitching his voice to be low and persuasive. “Don’t you think it would be good? Imagine how warm and relaxing it would be, having someone else wash your hair.” Hux carded his fingers into the thick, heavy locks and scratched Ren’s scalp in a light, circular movement. Ren closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, his eyes drifting closed. Hux kept up the light pressure for a moment, watching Ren’s face go lax. He seemed as if he might fall asleep if Hux kept it up. As if on cue, his hand came up, thumb slipping into his mouth, and Hux chuckled.

Ren’s eyes flicked open and he pulled his thumb free with a pop, brow clouding the way it always did when he suspected he was being mocked. Hux pulled his hand away and leaned on it, rising up onto his elbow. “You’re so quiet when you’re a baby. Just… watchful. Were you really like that?”

“I didn’t talk until I was three. Everyone thought there was something wrong with me.”

Hux resisted the urge to make a snide comment: he still wanted something, after all. “Did you ever find out why?”

Ren shook his head. “The Force, I suppose. I could sense what other people were thinking sometimes, and what they were feeling. I was too young to understand most of it and it was overwhelming — I wanted to...  withdraw. I don’t really remember, but that’s my guess.”

“That’s understandable, I suppose,” Hux said mildly.

“Is it?” Ren snapped. “How could someone like you even begin to understand?”

Hux rolled his eyes. “It’s a figure of speech, Ren. Of course, I could never hope to encompass your vast powers and sufferings.”

Ren huffed in annoyance and climbed over Hux to get out of bed, knocking the wind out of him with an errant knee as he did so. When he had dressed himself he turned back towards Hux, a wary look on his face. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”

“About wanting to bathe you?”

“No, the other thing.” Ren fussed with his tattered, abbreviated cloak, arranging it just so about his shoulders. “That you think of us as lovers.”

“Would you prefer some other term?”

“No.” Ren picked up his helmet and rested it against his hip. “It’s just unexpected.”

“Calm down, Ren, I’m not about to start writing you sonnets and sending you edible arrangements.”

“Shouldn’t we be nicer to each other — if that’s what we are?”

Hux laughed. “‘Nicer’? When have you or I ever been described as ‘nice’?”

“You _can_ be. You’re nice to me when I’m a baby.”

Usually it was Ren who shied away from reminders of the strange moments of intimacy they shared in the roleplay, but this time it was Hux who flushed. “That’s just pretend. It’s not… it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Ok.” Ren looked at him curiously. “I’m going to kiss you goodbye, since we’re _lovers_.”

“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

Kylo ducked down and gave him a swift, closed-mouth kiss, so unlike the sloppy, wet ones they had just shared when Kylo was bouncing up and down on Hux’s cock. “I’ll comm you about the play time.”

Hux laughed. “Oh, is that what we’re calling it?”

“You want to call it something else?”

“No, no! I like that.” Hux smiled as he repeated it to himself: “ _Play time_.”

*~*~*

When Hux entered the bedroom he found Kylo lying naked on the bed, curled on his side in a — well, in a foetal position. His expression was not the relaxed, unfocused one of his baby self, but something more still and cautious. This, Hux sensed, was the moment of transition. No wonder, then, that Ren had been reluctant to extend their play back to this point of origin. Shock ran down Hux’s spine at the sense of intimacy — Kylo Ren allowing him to see this wavering, uncertain moment where he was caught between two different selves, or two different points of time.

Hux removed his boots, gloves and coat, as he always did, and eased himself down onto the edge of the bed. “Hello my darling,” he said, not daring to raise his voice above a whisper. He reached out, turning his hand to trail the backs of his fingers, feather-light, down Kylo’s cheek. He felt the softness of fresh-shaven skin, the raised moles. “Sweet baby,” he murmured. “Let’s get you bathed, hmm? I’m going to run you the perfect bath, nice and warm with lots of bubbles for baby to play with. Doesn’t that sound nice?” He leaned down and kissed Kylo’s cheek, tracing the line of his forehead and temple with a downward sweep of his thumb. He smelled of nothing — just the flat, adult smell that Hux longed to replace with the soft, faintly medicinal scents of the baby products.

He got up and went into the refresher. Ren’s appointments included a sunken tub, of the same black, angular decor as the rest of the apartment — perhaps it wasn’t so strange that Ren took comfort in all the soft, bright trappings of infancy given the sensory deprivation of his surroundings. Hux opened the cabinet above the sink and pushed aside the respectable cosmetics until he found the brightly coloured and novelty-shaped ones at the back. _Sleepy-time Bath Soak — no more tears_. He sat on the edge of the bath as the water ran, breathing in the scent of the steam, trailing his hand through the bubbles. When it was done and he had checked the temperature against the thin skin of his inner wrist, Hux returned to the bedroom, and Kylo still lying pliant on the bed.

“Come on baby — bath time.” When he put his arm around Kylo’s shoulders, Kylo sat up, folding him into an embrace. Hux stilled, a little confused by the gesture. Kylo was pressing against him with one arm slung over Hux’s shoulder, the other loosely curled around his waist. Kylo made a soft snuffling sound and shifted; leaning against Hux as a dead weight. Hux made a soft sound of surprise, rubbing a hand up and down his bare back. Kylo turned his face away, leaning his cheek on Hux’s shoulder and breathed out slowly, then he pulled away, rising to his feet and making his way towards the ‘fresher. When Hux caught up with him he had already slipped into the water, hands patting at a cloud of foam as he made a low burbling sound of interest.  

“There’s my happy baby,” Hux said, sitting on the edge of the tub. Gathering up water in the hollow of his hand to let it trickle down Kylo’s back.

He washed Kylo’s hair and rubbed sweet-scented bubbles over his body. When Kylo clambered out and seated himself on the edge of the tub he wrapped him in an overlarge towel and rubbed him gently dry, talking to him in the soft-pitched stream of comforting nonsense that came so naturally in these situations. When they returned to the bedroom Kylo lay down on the blanket that was spread out ready on the floor. Hux stared at it critically for a moment, thinking how really this part ought to be done on a changing mat. He would get one — it was easy, he had discovered, to route purchases through anonymous shipping couriers and have them added to cargo destined for the Finalizer, then to his own private office. The sellers of such specialized merchandise as scaled-up baby products were well used to discretion in facilitating their well-paying, extra-terrestrial clientele.

Hux turned back to the large bank of closets and opened the long bottom drawer he had never had cause to access before, discovering the neat stack of diaper cloths and all the accessories belonging thereto. He touched each item with a light, familiarizing brush of his fingers, thinking back over the detailed instructions he had been sent over comm concerning which products to use and in what order.  

When he returned to Kylo’s side he found the other man was lying on his stomach, as if to prompt him. The cream Hux smoothed over Kylo’s buttocks was thick and waxy, his fingers leaving swirl marks in their wake. Kylo wriggled his toes and drummed his feet on the floor, making a low, regular sound somewhere between a keen and a grunt — he did this sometimes, when he was very deep in the fantasy; it seemed to be something that both stimulated and lulled him, the way his own repetitive sounds and motions did Hux.

“Sweet baby,” Hux said, wiping off the last of the cream on Kylo’s inner thighs. “That feels nice, doesn’t it, precious? We don’t want your little bottom to get red.” He unfolded the square of white cloth and turned it the right way up, laying the fabric over Kylo’s ass and tucking the excess between his legs. “Let’s turn you over.”

Kylo rolled obediently at the light pressure on his hip. His eyes were half-lidded and softly-focussed.

“Good boy, nearly finished.” Hux picked up the shaker of powder: fine, flora-scented talc, and let it rain down on the creases between Kylo’s groin and thigh, rubbing in each application with the lightest touch of his fingertips. “There now, that will keep you dry and comfortable, won’t it?”

Kylo made a noise like a hiccup, his knees falling wider apart. “There,” Hux repeated, rubbing the top of his thigh soothingly and then reaching down to grasp the ends of the fabric and pull it up, draping  the front of the diaper into place. “That’s perfect, isn’t it?” The snaps at either hip fastened with a satisfying series of high clicks. Hux smiled, rubbing the fabric lightly with the side of his thumb to feel the softness and thickness. Next he had Kylo put his feet through the leg holes of the plastic over-shorts and drew them up his legs. Kylo lifted his hips and let Hux pull them, with a little difficulty into place.

“There now,” Hux said, satisfied and relieved that he had brought Kylo to this stage (their usual beginning) without incident. He stroked Kylo’s stomach, tapping lightly with the tips of his fingers until Kylo wriggled and smiled. “There’s my happy baby.” He stroked the length of Kylo’s arm and along his collar bones. Such a simplicity of touch — with no destination or agenda, no words of explanation needed. Kylo’s body had once seemed so ungainly to him, the baby-acting a ridiculous pretense. The injustice of that thought struck him anew. Whatever he looked like, Kylo was soft and vulnerable like this; he wanted and deserved to be cared for.

“You are perfect,” he said, voice quiet and low, not at all like the usual sing-songing tone he used to talk to baby Kylo. Hux brushed the underside of Kylo’s chin with the side of his finger. “Just like this, just the way you are, my sweet darling. Perfect.”

Hux clasped his hand over his mouth as a sob rose up in his throat. He clamped down and tried to force the sensation back down; back to wherever in him it had come from — sudden and unpredicated like a vomiting fit in an underage drinker. It was useless - he sobbed again, an agony as his tight throat-muscles spasmed against his attempt to swallow. His nose and eyes started to run. He felt his face crumpling and a weird, inhuman sound rose out from his chest — a strangled wail.

Hux leapt up and turned towards the door. A split-second of reflection told him this was useless — he was already disintegrating, he couldn’t hope to get his boots and coat back on. Even if he managed to dress and stagger outside, what if someone should see him, stumbling down a corridor in unseemly floods of tears? With another hiccuping sob he turned around and walked quickly to the ‘fresher, patting the door close behind him and then sliding down the tile wall. He braced his socked feet against the side of the bath and buried his face in his knees, still desperately trying to muffle the abject sounds he was making.

“Hux,” came Kylo— Ren’s voice from the other side of the door. “What’s going on?”

“Go away,” he yelled, sounding like a teenager — the kind of teenager he never was. The door hissed open and Ren’s bare legs came into view as he sat down on the edge of the tub, the plastic of the briefs he was still wearing making a crinkling sound. Hux covered his face with his hands. He felt utterly miserable — face muscles aching and teeth clenched, chest still heaving with the diminishing sobs.

Ren sighed. “I thought something like this might happen.”

“Why…?” Hux sniffed, wiped his nose with the back of his hand, taking a deep, shuddering breath. “What are you talking about?”

“I could see that there was something going on. With you, and this. It means something to you.”

Hux shook his head. “I don’t have some secret longing for a baby, Ren, that would be pathetic.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What, then?”

“Did you have a happy childhood?”

Hux made a hysterical sound. “Oh yes, of course Ren, why my childhood in exile aboard an inoperable Tector-class Star Destroyer was just kriffing idyllic.”

“You know what I meant. Did someone care for you?”

“No. It was not what you would call a nurturing environment.”

“What about your mother?”

“I never knew my mother. She wasn’t my father’s wife and he… paid her off, warned her off, I don’t know.”

Ren paused for a moment in thought, then asked: “why did he take you if he didn’t acknowledge her?”

Hux sniffed again, still staring at the floor tiles with swimming eyes. “He considered me an asset of sorts — he didn’t have any other children. My father was — well, he believed the old Empire had fallen through a lack of discipline and ruthlessness. I suppose you can imagine what kind of _carer_ he made... Stars, it’s a bloody cliche isn’t it? The stern military father; the son who can never quite live up to his standards, never quite overachieve enough to meet his approval.”

Ren leaned forward, elbows on his bare knees. “You seem to have excelled according to the Order’s standards. Why not his?”

“He always thought I was soft. I was rather sickly as a child and too… everything, really: too anxious, too quiet, too… frivolous.”

“Frivolous? How?”

Hux breathed out shakily, turning his red-rimmed eyes up toward the ceiling. “Oh, I had a doll, once. A little girl gave it to me my first year in exile — she had brought it with her from whatever planet she came from. It was missing most of its hair; one of its eyes was stuck open. She was very kind and she saw that I admired it and she gave it to me. I hid it — stars, like treasure; like the dirtiest secret imaginable. I called her Sandy. The doll; not the little girl. She had a lot of sand stuck in her eye socket, that’s why it wouldn’t close. Why the hell am I telling you this?”

“Your father found it,” Ren prompted, not quite a question.

“Yes. It’s all so predictable, isn’t it?”

“He made you throw it away.”

“Yes, yes of course! He was disgusted — and amused, I suppose, in a way. Such a pathetic, grubby little thing; such a womanish affectation. He made me explain why I was getting rid of it as I tipped it into the disposal. ‘Dirty,’ I said, and ‘broken,’ and ‘foolish.’ Oh _hell_ it’s so obvious, isn’t it? That’s what ticks me off about this whole ridiculous mess.” Here Hux gestured between them. “I should have seen it coming.”

Ren frowned. “Our relationship?”

“He never meant me to be able to do this. To be able to care for someone. I suppose doing this — what we do — it was some sort of belated _fuck you_ to that bitter old man. Not that that makes any sort of sense, given that he’s dead now. But here I am, still hanging on to the toy baby.” Hux rubbed at his eyes with his palms. “Kriff, I’m sorry, Ren. I didn’t mean to compare you to some tatty little trinket I lost twenty-five years ago.”

“No, you’ve got it wrong. I’m not the doll, Hux. You’re the doll.”

“What?”

“You weren’t allowed to love yourself. He told you you weren’t good enough, so —”

“Fuck off, Ren. I’m not going to accept psychoanalysis from a grown man in a diaper.”

“I know why I do what I do. Seems like you’re the one it’s news to.”

“Frakk!” Hux threw his hands up. “Why do I love this so much — this absurd little fantasy?  I know this is just a soap bubble… that it’s all pretend.”

“It’s not pretend.”

“What is it then, regression?”

“If you think about it, the only time you’re really you is when you’re a baby. After that you’re what other people make of you. You get named and you learn to respond to it.  You learn words — you don’t invent them, they’re given to you — and you have to take all this… the light and sensation and the sounds, and make them fit.”

“Sounds like the kind of nonsense a Galacian healer would spout before charging you five hundred credits to unclog your aura.”  

“Well,” Ren twisted his mouth sulkily. “I would do it for you, if you wanted.”

“Unclog my aura?”

“No. Care for you.”

Hux knew what Ren meant by this — he meant it in the confines of the roleplay, of course — but something twisted low in his stomach; a sick, unsteady feeling. He tried to imagine allowing himself to be undressed, washed, caressed, and spoken to like that. _Sweet baby._

He looked away, fingers clenching and unclenching on the fabric bunched around his knees. “I don’t know that I could... It would be too much.”

“I understand.”

“Kriff, I’ve been pushing you, haven’t I? Have you hated it, all this time? I suppose I’m no better than my father, shunting you along through the developmental stages.”

Ren shook his head. “I never thought I would have someone who really understands, who wants to play along. I like it, but it’s...”

“Intense?”

He nodded, glancing up to meet Hux’s gaze.

Hux sighed. “I suppose I have to stop pretending it’s all for your benefit. I wasn’t keeping up that charade very well to begin with, was I?”

“You are way too into baby accessories to pull off being casual.”

“It’s a good thing I don’t have any real children — they would be utterly spoiled.” Hux climbed to his feet and went to the sink to splash water on his face. He looked over at Ren as he sat on the edge of the bath, long legs stretched out in front of him, looking too big for the space, the puffed-out shorts an incongruous shade of bright yellow and the only cheerful thing in the room. Hux replaced the towel and considered him critically. “You’d better let me brush your hair before it dries into those knots.”

“I can comb my own hair.”

“I know, but I’m better at it. I have more patience.”

Ren made a sound of amusement, getting to his feet and heading back into the bedroom. Hux returned to find Ren had laid down on the bed on his stomach, face turned to the side. Hux retrieved the pale blue baby brush and sat next to him on the mattress, clothed hip bumping Ren’s naked side. Ren’s one visible eye was open, dark and watchful as Hux shifted his hair about, dividing it into small sections and dragging the soft bristles through in light motions. He seemed once more caught in a shifting moment between selves: quiet, like he was as a baby; but holding a tension in his face, a hint of suspicion. Hux was silent as he worked, unsure if the usual babble of wonder and praise was appropriate here, in this strange in-between space. He focused instead on the soft hiss of the brush, joined before long by the almost inaudible slide and pop of Ren’s thumb-sucking.

When Hux was finished he placed the brush down carefully on the bedside table and pushed the barely-damp hair back from Ren’s face. He was sound asleep. Hux leaned down and kissed the crown of his head where the hair parted in a swirl. He smelled soap, berries and herbs, and very faintly, under it all, the blood-warm, animal scent of Ren’s scalp. He trailed his fingers down the centre of Ren’s back, fastidiously tugging up the waistband of his shorts where they had slipped down at one side. He then stood and went to retrieve the soft blanket where it was laid out on the floor, shaking it out and then folding it, draping the fabric gently over Ren and tucking it around him.

On his way out of the room, Hux stopped the ticking of the metronome but left the nightlight on. He leaned in the doorway a moment, watching the faint yellow stars and moons swirling over the pale surface of Ren’s face.

“Goodnight, baby,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come and boo me [on tumblr](http://kdazrael.tumblr.com/), if you like. Or, y'know, follow me for more of... whatever this is.


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